


Cover Your Eyes

by Resilur



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Forced to Watch Rape, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resilur/pseuds/Resilur
Summary: Captured by the Empire, the team must find a way to pull through.





	Cover Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



They had taken Shiro first, leaving the rest of the team in the cell to worry. Keith hadn’t woken until after he was gone, and Pidge was _still_ unconscious. No one liked the look of the gash on her forehead, but unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do about it at the moment.

Lance and Coran had been crawling over the entire cell since waking, despite being hampered by the way their hands were cuffed at the back. Every few minutes, one would announce that he’d finally found a means of escape, each more improbable than the last. Currently, Lance was back at the wall beside the door, prying awkwardly at a crease that the rest of them suspected wasn’t even a seam.

Hunk was the first to notice Pidge stirring. “Guys, I think Pidge is waking up!”

“No,” she croaked. “‘M not awake.” She tried to pull a hand forward, only to be stopped by the cuffs. “What the–?”

“The battle went badly,” Keith said bluntly. “The lions are damaged, and now we’re all just sitting here in a cell while–” he cut himself off, scowling.

“So… how’s your head feeling?” Hunk asked her.

“Pounding.” She looked around blearily. Hunk was beside her, and she quickly spotted Lance, Coran, and Allura. Rolling over slightly let her see where Keith sat against the wall, but… “Where’s Shiro?”

The silence stretched awkwardly before Allura quietly explained, “Shiro was taken away some time ago.” She didn’t say anything further as to why; she didn’t need to. Bracing herself, she continued, “We’ve overheard the Galra talking some, but unfortunately we haven’t learned much besides that we are to be handed over to a Commander Trugg once her ship arrives.”

This time it was Coran who broke the silence before it could get too oppressive. “You know, we haven’t checked the ceiling, yet,” he said, staring upwards thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to reach. Not like this.” Hunk tugged at his own cuffs in illustration.

“Ah, but that’s precisely why–!”

The clattering of footsteps drew everyone’s attention to the cell door, suddenly tense. Lance stood, as Keith shifted into a ready crouch. Pidge tried to get herself into a less vulnerable position, crawling back to lever herself up against the wall and wincing as the movement made her head swim.

The door opened to reveal a Galra soldier, flanked by two sentry drones with guns drawn, and several more arrayed behind him.

“Where’s Shiro?” Keith shot out instantly, though he didn’t move. “What have you done with him?”

The Galra simply raised an eyebrow, turning toward him with a lazy grin. “Oh? That would be the Black Paladin, I take it?” His grin sharpened. “Would you like to go see him?” Keith glared back, but his response was cut off by a warning from Allura. He scowled, but didn’t argue.

“Now, princess, no need for that.” The Galra’s obvious amusement did nothing to alleviate the tension in the cell. “That’s exactly what I’ve come for, after all. I’m sure you’re all wondering how your leader is faring, so we’ve decided to let you all come and see. Isn’t that nice?” No one deigned to respond.

At a brief nod, the sentries entered the cell, a pair taking each member of the team roughly by the arms. None of them tried to resist as they were filed out and through a several hallways.

The room they were brought to appeared to be a lesser-used storage bay; a number of large crates were stacked near the walls, along with a few half-barren shelves. A dozen or so soldiers were loitering about, who quieted and moved over to the far wall when the prisoners entered. Several of them were grinning.

Shiro was nowhere to be seen.

They were shoved to their knees in a line by the nearest wall. Pidge swayed dangerously, earning concerned looks from Allura and Keith on either side of her. She ignored them, straightening and eyeing the room for anything they might be able to use to their advantage.

A sentry remained on guard behind each of them. The Galra who had brought them from the cell turned to the back corner, saluting with his hand to his chest. “The prisoners, Captain.”

They twisted slightly to see another Galra walk around to in front of them. “Very good, Varz.” His measuring gaze raked over each of them in turn. “I trust there was no difficulty?”

Varz snorted. “Of course not.”

Allura drew herself up, a mix of regal poise and fury. “You would be Captain Ryevan, correct? I demand to know where my Black Paladin is.”

“Don’t worry, he’s on his way.” With that he turned his back to them, bluntly ignoring any further questions or demands.

It didn’t take long before a door off to the side was opened. Shiro was dragged through by two sentries. His armor and flight suit had been removed, replaced by ragged clothes reminiscent of what he’d worn when he’d escaped back to earth. There were no visible wounds aside from some bruises, but he was clearly shaky and in pain. His eyes widened when he saw the rest of the team, worriedly checking their condition.

“Shiro!” Keith made as if to lunge forward, only to be yanked back by the shoulder. He made an aggravated growl under his breath.

“I’m all right,” Shiro replied with as much calm as he could muster. No one called him out on the obvious lie. “You?”

“We’re okay,” Hunk said. “They didn’t touch us. I mean, except when they dragged us here, obviously, but you–” He cut off with a yelp as his guard kicked him in the back.

“I think it’s time we got to the point,” Ryevan stated. He strode to the center of the room, facing Shiro. “You’ve refused to respond to interrogation; that doesn’t matter.” He waved a hand dismissively. "Getting information out of you will be the druids’ job, anyway. And they’re very effective at it. No, information is not my concern.”

He gestured at the kneeling paladins. “You are their leader, are you not? I’m sure they respect you a great deal.” He let his gaze sweep over all of them, before slowly grinning. “Let’s see just what you take to break.”

Varz came forward to grab Shiro’s cuffed hands and pull them above his head. There were several hooks dangling from the ceiling, intended for use in hauling cargo. Varz hung Shiro from one of these, facing Ryevan so that his teammates were to his side. Shiro’s bare feet were only barely able to reach the floor, forcing his arms to take most of his weight. His already strained breathing grew worse.

“I… will not give in.” He twisted around to look at each of his teammates in turn. “You just need to stay strong. I’ll be fine – and we will get through this.”

“You sound so sure about that.” Ryevan slowly circled Shiro, gaze raking over his body contemplatively. Each time he passed in front, Shiro stared straight into his eyes, refusing to give ground. Ryevan, however, didn’t bother to return his look, utterly dismissive.

Several of the Galra against the far wall were starting to murmur and snicker amongst themselves. Most of the team was focused entirely on Shiro – there was likely nothing that could tear Keith’s attention away – but Pidge glared at them, gritting her teeth. A female soldier noticed, and responded with a smirk and a crude gesture, earning a laugh from those next to her. Pidge felt her stomach drop as that connected with what the captain had said. She could only hope desperately that she was jumping to conclusions.

There was a palpable air of eagerness growing in the room, straining the already taut nerves of the team. Hunk was sickened – there had to be something they could do.

Shiro had been getting more tense with every circuit Ryevan made. He was having more and more difficulty keeping his breathing even, on the verge of snapping from the anticipation.

As he passed behind him one last time, Ryevan gently touched his fingers to Shiro’s back.

Shiro went absolutely _rigid_ , sucking in a sharp gasp. He closed his eyes, and tried to regain control of himself. However, he still couldn’t help flinching as Ryevan slowly caressed his back.

The soft touches were, in some ways, far more disconcerting than pain would have been. Pain was expected, not to mention familiar after his time in the gladiator arena. But this threw him off balance, his body unable to decide how to react – especially with the knowledge that it could turn into pain at any moment.

Ryevan chuckled lightly. “Davro,” he called over his shoulder. The guard who had dragged Shiro in stalked over to loom behind him.

Meanwhile, Ryevan had moved around to stand in front of Shiro again, before roughly grabbing his chin. Shiro refused to give any reaction to the claws digging sharply into his skin.

“Well, I think it’s time we find out how much our _Champion_ can really take.”

With some effort, Ryevan pried his mouth open and shoved two fingers inside. Shiro immediately bit down as hard as he could.

His reward was only the slightest twitch of pain – the action had been expected – before Ryevan’s left fist slammed into the side of his head. A hard punch to the kidneys from Davro followed.

Shiro gasped and choked, losing his footing. The extra pressure his weight put on his chest made it even harder to recover. His watching teammates cried out as he was struck, and Lance, Keith, and Pidge were shouting insults, unable to sit quietly any longer.

“None of that, now.” Ryevan was infuriatingly calm. He hadn’t removed his fingers, and was now scraping Shiro’s tongue harshly with his claws. Davro grabbed Shiro’s hair and wrenched his head back, even as he continued to struggle back to his feet. Ryevan met his gaze squarely, this time. He leaned in close.

“My commander might be disappointed if I’m unable to turn you all over to her alive, _but that doesn’t mean I need them intact_. No one will care about a limb or two.” He paused until he was sure that had sunk in. “So. This is the only warning you get; you will not do that again. Clear?” Shiro just glared, unable to do anything else.

“Don’t listen to him!” Keith pleaded. “Damnit, we’ll be fine!” But Shiro did not attempt to bite again.

Steady once more, he stood still as Ryevan’s fingers explored his mouth. He couldn’t help but shudder at the invasiveness, earning a weak protest from one of his friends and a smirk from Ryevan.

The Galra dragged it out – playing with his tongue, scratching across his gums and the inside of his cheek, and even shoving to the back of his throat so that he gagged and choked. It emphasized to Shiro just how completely helpless he was, and Ryevan was clearly relishing every moment.

Through it all, Davro kept his own claws painfully twisted in Shiro’s hair, occasionally tugging this way or that. Now, though, he pressed forward flush against Shiro’s body, practically smashing the two of them together. Shiro barely managed to stay on his feet, letting out a muffled cry as Ryevan’s claws stabbed into the back of his throat at the movement.

Not letting go of his hair, Davro slid his other hand under Shiro’s shirt and around his waist, pausing briefly over his abdomen. He flexed, letting his claws lightly prick Shiro’s skin before slipping his hand down further, just inside his pants.

Shiro stiffened, eyes he didn’t even remember closing shooting open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Lance shouted.

Davro put his mouth right to Shiro’s ear. “Not very bright, are you?” He bit down lightly and tugged with his teeth. Trapped between so many points, Shiro let a pained whimper slip out. Davro chuckled, flicking his tongue over the toothmarks.

Keith was struggling to get up again, all but roaring. A second sentry moved to help restrain him.

Ryevan finally pulled his fingers away. He wiped them off on Shiro’s face, painting his cheek and forehead with blood-tinged saliva. Then he stepped back to lean casually against the wall, simply watching.

Davro shoved his hand deeper into Shiro’s pants, fondling him, and started grinding against him from behind. As if this was some form of signal, other soldiers began coming over, gradually surrounding Shiro.

“About time we got him down, don’t you think?” Varz said, reaching for the hook that held him suspended. He slumped as he was released, only Davro’s awkward grip keeping him from falling completely. Davro continued to nip at his ear and neck, as a couple others grabbed at his arms and waist, taking some of his weight.

Shiro was trembling violently, barely able to comprehend that this was actually happening. His pants were shoved down to his knees, and he flinched as a clawed hand wrapped around one of his thighs.

Davro suddenly let go of him, shoving him forward. Everyone else moved away as well, allowing him to smash into the floor. He managed to turn his head in time to avoid breaking his nose, but the blow still left him stunned.

He groaned, echoed by Hunk’s despairing whine.

The kneeling paladins were forced to watch it all. Any time it was noticed that one had closed their eyes or turned their head away, Shiro was punished. The first time, one of the Galra had reached back between his legs, shoved her claw in deep, and scratched as brutally hard as she could. The gut-wrenching shriek had been the longest and loudest sound Shiro had made throughout the ordeal.

The second, Varz had broken two of his fingers. He was slow about it, methodically twisting and snapping each joint one at a time. He ignored their pleas to stop, as well as their furious curses.

They did their best not to let it happen a third.

A pile of vomit beside him, Hunk averted his gaze as much as he could get away with. He could still see them shifting, though, moving Shiro as if he were a doll to play with. And there was nothing he could do to block out the sounds – Shiro’s half-suppressed gasps and whimpers, the sickening smack of flesh against flesh, and the noises of satisfaction and amusement from those raping him.

Pidge glared at the Galra, hurling every invective she could think of. She did her best not to look directly Shiro. The others could tell whenever she failed by how her voice would falter for a brief moment.

Coran tried to look at the watching paladins and Allura as much as possible. He couldn’t do anything to help them, any more than he could help Shiro right now, but it was still easier to deal with than focusing directly on what was happening at the center of the room.

They pulled Shiro’s pants off completely, kicking them carelessly aside and spreading his legs roughly. The shirt was shoved upward under his arms, but they didn’t bother to remove it. Allura’s face was a mask of absolute fury. She took refuge in rage, fueled by each strike, each thrust, each tiny sound of pain.

One of the Galra moved to stand in front of Shiro’s face. He pried open his jaw, shoving in hard. Shiro choked, struggling weakly. His mouth was stretched painfully wide and his neck was craned back as far as it could go. His muffled cries drew another whimper from Hunk, and a fresh wave of insults and threats from Pidge.

Each time one of them finished behind him, another would take their place. Lance couldn’t tear his eyes away, each movement catching him, but only half-seeing what was before him.

Keith only had eyes for Shiro. He continued to fight against the sentries’ hold, growing fiercer as Shiro’s own movements became sluggish and weak.

Varz eventually stalked over in frustration. Keith didn’t back down, glaring up at him as he approached. Varz didn’t even pause before roughly grabbing his hair and wrenching his head back. “Such a nuisance. Or are you just eager to join in?”

“Like hell,” Keith bit out with a snarl. He tried to break the grip in his hair, barely even noticing the pain in his scalp as he struggled, but his captor easily held firm.

“Really?” Varz grinned. “Because you seem pretty eager to me.” He crouched down, and Keith froze as sharp teeth grazed his exposed throat.

The others were torn on how to react. They kept looking between Keith and Shiro, who simply laid where the Galra had dropped him. He was gasping for breath, but his lack of reaction to what was happening said just how out of it he was.

On the one hand, he desperately needed the reprieve. But the longer this went on, the more afraid they all became for _Keith_.

“He-hey now,” Hunk tried to cut in, still looking queasy. “Why don’t… we all just take it easy and–” he broke off as Varz suddenly rose to his feet and spun, wrenching Keith along.

Keith cried out, as much in surprise as in pain. He twisted, trying and failing to get his feet under him.

“Damnit, let go of him!” Lance surged forward, only to be stopped by Varz almost casually kicking a heel back into his gut. Hunk managed to half-catch him with his shoulder as he was knocked back to the ground. Once he had caught his breath back, Lance let out a frustrated groan.

Pidge’s curses, which had died down into low, half-growled muttering, began to pick up volume again. Her anger was increasingly becoming a flimsy cover for her growing despair as things went on, however.

Allura’s rage, on the other hand, hadn’t abated in the slightest, despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her resolve to keep silent broke for a moment upon seeing yet another of her paladins – her comrades and _friends_ – about to be harmed. “Stop this! Haven’t you monsters done enough!” Coran tried to calm her, but his worried gaze didn’t leave the center of the room.

Varz simply ignored them, dragging Keith roughly by the hair over to where Shiro lay. Keith grit his teeth, feet scrabbling futilely against the smooth plating of the floor.

He was thrown to the ground in a heap near Shiro’s head. Twisting around, he only spared half a moment to shoot the surrounding Galra a wary glare before turning all his attention towards Shiro.

Shiro’s eyes were still closed, his breathing labored. He gave no reaction. It wasn’t even clear if he was conscious.

Keith tugged uselessly at his own cuffs, making a frustrated sound at being unable to actually do anything despite being right in arm’s reach.

He scanned Shiro’s body. He already knew full well what condition he was in – he’d only been a few yards away – but every injury and mark stood out anew.

Fury warred with despair. “Sh-Shiro?” His voice broke.

Shiro’s eyes snapped open. Unfocused, his gaze darted about frantically before he realized that Keith was now bending over him.

“…Keith,” he managed to gasp out, voice raw. “What are you… are you all right?” His worry and fear were plain on his face. “They haven’t been hurting you, have they...?” He tried to lever himself up, looking to the side to see the rest of the team. Keith shifted forward, attempting to brace him with his knees.

“Oh, don’t you worry about us!” Coran’s voice was far less chipper than normal, though they could all tell he was doing his best. “We’re all just fine.” Mollified, Shiro let himself sag back down, head now resting in Keith’s lap.

“Aw, now isn’t that sweet?” Shiro and Keith both tensed when Varz stepped closer, as did their watching friends.

Keith hunched protectively over Shiro, warning their captors off with a growled, “Don’t you dare touch him!” The Galra around them just laughed mockingly at the attempted threat; he was helpless and they knew it.

“Keith… don’t.” Shiro tried to get him to back down. “Please, it’ll… I’ll be all right.” Keith ignored him except to look even more ready to fight – with his teeth alone if he had to. Recognizing this, Shiro gave a groan of mixed frustration and worry.

“Tch, there’s no need for that, now.” Varz was eying Keith with wicked amusement. “I was just thinking that maybe you’d like to be able to hold him for a bit. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” Neither Keith nor Shiro relaxed, not trusting this apparent generosity for a moment.

“So that’s exactly what you’re going to do… while we finish up.” He gave Keith a perversely good-natured pat on the head.

There was a moment of stunned silence before the rest of the team cried out in protest, loud enough to still easily be heard over the laughter and approving catcalls from their captors. Keith tried to duck away from him, snarling. “If you think for one second–”

Varz gestured casually over his shoulder. The sentry behind Allura shoved its gun directly against the back of her head. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist, paladin.”

The teams’ protests died out into nothing; they barely seemed able to breathe.

Allura blanched, but drew herself up and met Keith’s eyes squarely. He could only stare back in frozen horror, unable to speak.

She turned her gaze to Varz. “I refuse to play your sick game.” The others could only look on helplessly, switching focus rapidly between the two.

Ryevan snorted. “Is that so, princess,” he cut in, sauntering over. He and Varz exchanged a brief look before turning back to the sentry. Allura swallowed as she felt the heat of the gun charging behind her. But even as her breathing turned unsteady, she did not allow her furious gaze to waver at all.

“Stop.” The word was hoarse, and so faint that it took a moment for anyone to react. Keith was curled in on himself, fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut. “Just… I’ll do it.”

Allura sagged slightly as the gun began to cool again, blinking away tears of helpless fury.

Varz ruffled Keith’s hair again, smirking as he undid the cuffs. Keith brought his hands around slowly. He desperately wanted to attack, to lash out. He didn’t.

Fear warred with anger in him, but powerlessness was the ultimate victor. He reached out to take Shiro’s still-bound left hand. Feeling how he trembled, Shiro tried to give him a reassuring smile, only to fail miserably. “We’ll get through this,” he said instead.

He couldn’t stop the flinch, though, as another Galra crouched over him and reached down.

Even as angry cries once more began building from the rest of the team, Keith swallowed and forced his own back. Squeezing Shiro’s hand and murmuring reassurances he didn’t believe himself, he did his best to offer what little comfort he could.

For his own part, Shiro tried to latch onto to Keith’s voice and touch, rather than their captors’. It would be enough to get him through this. It had to be.

They just had to focus on each other, and survive.


End file.
